


No Face

by asexualjuliet



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e05: The Son, Eric Taylor as Matt Saracen’s Father Figure, Gen, Give Zach Gilford an Emmy, I Do Not Like Julie Taylor but she’s here anyway, I would die for Tami Taylor, Intrusive Thoughts, Minor Character Death, Poor Matt Saracen, Tim Riggins and his poor decision-making skills, give him a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 12:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualjuliet/pseuds/asexualjuliet
Summary: He has no face. That’s the first thing Matt sees, because how could he not? The whole point of this was to make sure it was his dad in the casket, but how can he know that it’s his dad if he doesn’t have a face?Or, the one where Matt Saracen loses the father he never really had and maybe gains the one who’s been here all along.





	No Face

Why the _ hell _ did he listen to Riggins?

That’s gotta be a question a million people have asked and never gotten an answer to. 

Matt knows the answer, though, deep down. If he adds up all the time he’s ever spent with his dad, he’ll probably get a little over thirteen years. 

Thirteen. Out of eighteen. That’s seventy-two percent, with a ratio of twenty-five days here to eighteen not.

Matt’s not great at math, but that’s five years wherever the hell he was, off being _ funny _ and pulling _ practical jokes _ on his friends. 

So yeah, he did it because he wanted to see his dad again. 

Just not like this. 

He has no face. That’s the first thing Matt sees, because how could he not? The whole point of this was to make sure it was his dad in the casket, but how can he know that it’s his dad if he doesn’t have a face?

It is, he knows it is and it’s the most terrible thing he’s ever seen. The tears pool in his eyes and he feels like he’s gonna puke, because his dad has no face, no face, no face. 

“Thank you,” he says to the man holding the casket open, and he starts to walk out as quickly as he can before the tears start falling. 

“Matt, you all right?” Asks Billy and _ Jesus, Billy, no he’s not alright. _

“Thank you,” he hears Tim say to the funeral director, and goddammit, Riggins, this is all your fault. 

He catches a “Matt, it’s okay,” from Landry before he runs out, because that’s exactly what Landry says every time it’s not okay. 

_ Running. Running. Feet on hard pavement. Down Maple Avenue. Tears running down his face. Past the Alamo Freeze. Landry was right. Through the back lot of the church on Main Road. He shouldn’t have listened to Tim. Take a left on Ten Acres Drive. No face no face no face. Down Alaska—oh crap, _ dinner. 

Matt knows he’s about an hour late to dinner with the Taylors when he knocks on their door, but he can’t just not show up. 

(His dad wouldn’t have shown up).

So he jogs on up to the door, past Gracie Belle’s toys on the front lawn that he would’ve helped pick up any other day but can’t bring himself to today. 

Matt wipes his face on his sweatshirt sleeve, well aware that he looks like a goddamn mess before he knocks on the door. 

“Sorry, um, I know I'm really—I'm really late,” he says when Julie opens the door. 

“That's okay,” she says softly. “We saved you a plate.” She takes his hand and leads him to the dining room. 

“Thank you,” Matt mumbles, just above a whisper. 

Tami has sad eyes when she looks at him, and Coach’s eyes stare into Matt’s soul. 

He hates the sad eyes, but he knows she’s trying, and he knows he deserves them. 

“Mrs. Taylor, I'm sorry, I know that you—”

Tami cuts him off. “Oh, you're fine, honey. We saved you a plate.”

“Hey, Matt,” says Coach. “We saved dessert for now.”

“We'll all have dessert with you. You're fine,” says Tami in her calm voice. 

“Thank you,” Matt manages. 

(How is it that three people with no moral obligation to him have treated him better than his father ever did?)

“Come on, come on, and sit down. Don't you worry,” Tami continues, and her voice sounds like his mom’s used to, when she was happy and he was too. 

“You drive?” Coach asks, voice not so sweet, but still like he cares. 

“No, sir. No,” he answers, and even though Coach is right in front of him, all he can see is his father’s corpse. 

(Can you call it a corpse if it doesn’t have a face?)

“I-I had a nice walk, though,” he assures Coach before looking down at the plate Tami has given him. It’s carrots and steak. 

Matt doesn’t like carrots. When he was little, his dad made him eat all the carrots on his plate even though they made his throat itchy and his lips swell up. 

His mom never put his vegetables next to his steak when he was little because he didn’t like it and they didn’t taste good that way. 

Matt knows it’s dumb, but he doesn’t want to eat the steak and carrots. 

“Well you don't have to eat it if you don't want to,” Tami says softly, watching him look down at his dinner. 

“I'm hungry,” Matt insists, even though he’s not. 

“Well, do you want something else, hon?”

“No, this—I'm sorry, Mrs. Taylor, I don't like carrots,” he says, stumbling over his words. 

“Oh, well...” says Tami, trailing off when Matt starts to speak again. 

“...And I don't like when they touch the meat, so—”

“Well, I'll just take it away then,” Tami says, and she’s so sweet about it that Matt feels like he’s about to drown in his own guilt. 

He figures Coach sees the look on his face, because he says “Don't worry about it.”

“No, look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he stammers as he starts to get up from the table. 

“No, no. You're fine, sweetie,” Tami insists, her eyes more concerned than sad. 

“I'm sorry,” Matt continues, “I'm being rude, I'm sorry. I don’t—”

“Honey, you're fine,” Tami says again, but he’s _not_, he’s not fine, because all he can see is his dad’s dead body. 

“I don't like being rude. I don't like being rude,” he says, and he can feel the tears in his eyes, but he can’t cry. Not here. 

“It's okay,” Tami assures him. 

It’s not. 

All he sees is his dad. 

“I think I'm just having a moment here,” he manages. “I'm just having a moment.” 

_ No face, no face, no face. _

“I don't think I'm okay.”

He can’t see them, he can’t force himself to look at them, because he knows what he’ll see. 

Julie, scared. Wanting to help. Not knowing how. 

Tami, worried. Sad eyes piercing his soul. 

Coach, solemn. Matt doesn’t know what’s going on in his head. 

“I hate him,” Matt says, and it’s like on the football field earlier but now he’s saying the words in front of the people who will worry about him the most. “And I don't like hating people. But I just put all my hate on him, so I don't have to hate anybody else and so that I can be a good person, you know, to my grandmother, to my friends, to your _ daughter_.”

Matt’s voice catches as he starts to sob. Tears roll down his face, but he’s so numb he can barely feel them. 

“That's all I want to say. I just want to tell him to his face that I hate him, but he doesn't even have a face,” Matt says. He looks at the Taylors, all so obviously worried about him. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Taylor, I'll see you all tomorrow.”

He’s out the door before he knows it. 

“Matt, you don’t have to go!” Julie cries as he closes the door and walks away. Looks at his shoes. Beat up. Navy blue but not really, just grayish. The image is still in his head and he can’t get it out. 

“Matt!” Coach calls from the front steps. “Matt! I'm gonna walk you home.” 

Matt doesn’t look back. 

The tears are messy, down his face, spilling onto his sweatshirt. His eyelashes stick together in clumps and he wipes them on his sleeve. Footsteps come up behind him. An arm around his shoulder. Tears keep falling. Coach doesn’t say anything. 

The walk back to Matt’s house is silent as he drowns in his own thoughts, but maybe the arm on his shoulder makes it a little better.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> All mistakes are my own, please let me know if you notice any!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are greatly appreciated!


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